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‘Dad!’ she smiled as she answered it. ‘Are you OK? I’m sorry I haven’t called – work has been so busy and I know you don’t like me to call too late …’ she said with a pang of guilt, realising it had been over a week since she had last spoken to him.

‘Don’t worry, I understand,’ John Courtney said easily, in his familiar, warm tones, that still held a trace of his Northumbrian accent. ‘How’s work going?’

‘Really well. I’m learning so much, and seriously enjoying all of it.’

‘That’s great, Fliss. I’m so proud of you. Your mum would be too.’

‘Thanks, Dad.’ Fliss could picture him sitting in his favourite chair in the living room, the landline on a side table next to him, beside framed photographs of Fliss and her mother. She missed him, vowed not to leave it so long next time. ‘Actually, today was kind of crazy,’ she admitted. ‘You know the show I’m working on, London Lunch?’

‘I watch it every day,’ John told her. ‘I don’t think I’m the target audience, but I wouldn’t miss it!’

‘Aw, thanks Dad, that’s so sweet of you,’ Fliss said, touched. ‘Well, you know the presenter, Daisy? She didn’t turn up for rehearsals so I stood in for her. She was there for the live show, so that was fine, but it was kind of fun, actually. I had to read the autocue, and even did a fake interview with one of the crew standing in for Joss Stone, who was the real guest in the live show.’

‘Perhaps a new future beckons?’

‘I’m not sure about that!’ Fliss played it down, but in truth she couldn’t stop daydreaming about a whole new career in front of the camera. Jo and Mike had praised her, insisting it was an avenue that she should consider pursuing. Presenting was something that Fliss had never thought about, but she knew she should take any opportunity that was offered to her. She was determined to do well in life, but she hadn’t quite decided what direction that should be.

‘You remind me so much of your mum,’ John said, a pang of melancholy in his voice, but Fliss was glad that they still talked about her. Her mother, Jacqueline, had died from a brain tumour almost a decade ago, so the wound was no longer fresh, and Fliss wanted to make sure her memory was kept alive. ‘Of course, I didn’t really know her during her London life,’ John continued, ‘but she always dreamed of being famous, of making it as a big star.’

‘I thought you two got together in London?’ Fliss said, a distant memory niggling at the back of her mind that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

‘Oh – oh yes,’ John said, sounding flustered. ‘I just meant … Well, we met each other more towards the end of her career, if you could call it that. Once she fell pregnant with you, we moved to the coast. I wasn’t really on the scene when she was a jobbing actress, going to auditions and the like.’

‘I always felt as though I ruined her career,’ Fliss said ruefully. ‘She had to give up her dreams because of me.’

‘Don’t be daft! You were the best thing that ever happened to her. To both of us,’ John said softly, and a lump rose in Fliss’s throat.

‘I’m almost at the station, Dad,’ she said thickly, after a long pause. ‘I need to go in a minute and get on the tube.’

‘Of course you do; you get yourself home. It’s so good to hear from you, Fliss. You look after yourself, now – London can be a scary place.’

‘I’m OK. I don’t feel unsafe at all. And I’ve got good people around me.’

‘Do you now? Does that include a boyfriend?’

‘Daaad,’ Fliss said, starting to blush. She was standing outside Hammersmith station. It was too early for the commuter crowd, but it was still busy, with groups of school pupils in uniform, and a handful of shoppers trying to get home before rush hour. ‘There is someone, actually,’ Fliss admitted. ‘Not a boyfriend, but someone I like. We’re going on a date this weekend.’

‘Right, well, you make sure he treats you right or he’ll have me to answer to,’ John blustered.

Fliss smiled. Her father’s reaction was clichéd, but she appreciated him looking out for her. ‘He seems like a good guy, Dad. It’s early days, but fingers crossed.’

‘If you like him, then so will I. I hope it works out. Now, I know you’ve got to go, but when are you next coming to visit?’

‘Well, I’ve got plans for the next couple of weekends, but I could come down after that. Or you could come here?’

There was a pause at the other end of the line. ‘No, London’s not for me anymore. I’m too stuck in my ways. I prefer the quieter life out here. I’m like the country mouse when I’m in the big city.’

‘Well, only if you say so. OK, I’ll book my train and let you know.’

‘That sounds great. Bye, darling.’

‘Bye, Dad.’ Fliss hung up, heading into the shopping centre towards the tube. She felt on top of the world – she had had a fantastic day at work, and had a first date lined up with Kit for the weekend. Even just thinking about him lit a fire in her body, her heart dancing in her chest. She didn’t think that life could get any better.

Chapter 14

Fliss met Kit at Waterloo station, beneath the iconic clock which hung high above the main concourse. It was the beginning of December and the station felt festive, busy with people laden with bags of shopping, rushing to make trains or piling into the capital on their way to buy gifts. The smell of comfort food drifted out from the cafes, along with roasted beans from the coffee vendors.

Fliss’s stomach was fluttering with excitement and nerves, her heart racing – and not solely from the prospect of seeing Kit again. She had dressed carefully – well, as carefully as you could in freezing December weather – in a cute striped sweater, denim mini skirt and black tights with long boots, her strawberry blonde hair loose. Tara had complimented her on her outfit and asked where she was going.